Ever Ever After
by Chicleeblair
Summary: Meredith Grey was never a Disney person...until her daughter taught her to believe. Companion to Searching for a Seattle Sky.
1. Chapter One: Seattle

**Chapter One**

"Meredith Grey, child of darkness, you've just spent eight years finishing a seven-year residency. What are you going to do next?"

"Shut up, Cristina." Meredith scrawled her name on the last chart she would sign as a surgical resident at Seattle Grace and glared at her best friend. She swept the chart off the nurses' station desk and began to charge down the hall to deposit it back into the slot next to her patient's door.

Cristina's grin was more manic than it'd been the morning Meredith had been supposed to get married, almost four years earlier. "Oh, but Meredith, you'll have _so much fun_."

"I hate you," she called over her shoulder before she ducked into the resident's locker room for the last time.

Cristina smirked, pulling at the hem of her navy blue scrubs tauntingly. "You love me."

Meredith shook her head, wishing it wasn't true, but knowing it always would be. In the end they were the last ones standing. Alex had taken a fellowship in Iowa to be closer to his sister. Between the time Meredith had taken off—liver donating, suspension, maternity—and the requirements of a neurosurgery residency, she would be the last to cross the finish line.

"And what would my mother think of that?" she asked herself, trading her scrub pants for the jeans she'd wear for the drive home. "Or about this trip?" The questions came instinctually, but she found she didn't really give a damn about the answer.

Some days it felt strange to drive the car toward the ferry dock rather than heading straight for Queen Anne's Hill. They'd sold the house almost three and a half years ago, but the countless treks back and forth, usually with a car full of doctors, seemed to be etched into her very being. Even now the car felt too quiet, and she turned on the stereo for a little noise.

"_Under da sea! Under da sea! Darling, it's better, down where it's wetter…_."

Meredith swore aloud, glanced apologetically into the empty backseat and turned off the radio. Why in the name of all things holy had she allowed Izzie to give Zola a birthday present without clearing it with them first?

Because her friend had lulled her into complacency with years of knitted sweaters and picture books. Then, on Zola's third birthday, Meredith had watched in horror while a flood of Disney movies had poured out of Izzie's carefully wrapped box.

"They're not the 'helpless girl is saved by the prince' ones," Izzie had said in response to Meredith's glare.

And maybe she could have done worse than _Beauty and the Beast, Toy Story, Alice in Wonderland, Mary Poppins, The Lion King _and_ Mulan_, but it hadn't stopped there. Meredith had bought _Pete's Dragon_ when they rereleased it—oh how familiar she would soon become with the notion of the Disney Vault—but it'd been Derek who'd caved on the princess issue.

"It's not like these are the only role model she has," he'd said with a very chagrined expression the day Meredith had walked in the door to hear "Someday My Prince Will Come" wafting through the house.

She'd pretended to be mad, and there had been more than one conversation about all the things girls could do—which for a four-year-old often lapsed into wondering why she couldn't be Superman, but hey, could be worse—and…well…Meredith hadn't believed in happy endings and she'd gotten one in spite of it. To tell Zola they didn't exist would be hypocritical at best. So she put up with the endless repetitions of "Be Our Guest!" and "Hakuna Matata." But she had her limits.

Or so she'd thought.

The silent ride home seemed to take longer than her usual commute, and the sun had begun to set over Elliot Bay by the time she pulled the car off the ferry and began navigating the winding roads home. Derek had taken the day off to prepare. There had been a time when they would have celebrated this ending with a bottle of champagne somewhere on the edge of the property.

This would be decidedly different.

The silence of her evening ended the second she shut the front door.

"Mommy!"

"Whoa, careful Zo!" She caught Zola, who had flung herself, forearm crutches and all, down the last three steps on the foyer staircase, trusting Meredith to catch her. "Have you been helping Daddy pack?" She settled the girl on her hip, and started up the steps. The metal of the purple crutches hit her leg with each step, but she'd gotten used to this, along with so many other things.

"We can't take Tony," Zola said matter-of-factly. "He won't fit in my suitcase."

"Oh, I think he might. If you didn't take any clothes."

"Do _not_ suggest that," Derek flew out of Zola's room, arms raised in front of his face. "She'll come in here and dump out this suitcase, and I have _finally_ managed to close it."

"I could be nakee," Zola agreed, putting a finger on her bottom lip.

While Derek put a hand over his mouth, probably hiding a smile to go with the look in his eyes that told Meredith plainly that the thought running through his head was _Is there any doubt she's yours, Mer?_

"I don't think they'll allow that, Zo," she said. "You can tell Tony all about it later, okay? And you're taking Frog."

"Okay." Zola agreed. "Can I tell Tony bye?"

"Sure." Meredith set her on the ground, steadying her until she got her bearings. "All that over a stuffed tiger?"

Derek kissed her cheek. "You think that was bad? I thought we'd have to bring Strummer, she was so against leaving him at Mark's."

"Well, he definitely wouldn't fit in her suitcase. Mine, on the other hand…."

Derek embraced her and kissed her solidly on the mouth, probably to shut her up more than anything. "How was your last day of being a resident?"

"Uneventful. Almost anticlimactic. I kept expecting some huge disaster to come swooping in."

"Expecting, or hoping for?" He pressed his forehead to hers. "I know this isn't something you ever thought about doing, but—."

"Derek, stop. I would never hope for anything that would make her unhappy. You know that."

"I do," he agreed. "Can you help her put on her pajamas while I load the stuff into my car?"

"You got it all packed?"

"I did stay here all day to do that."

"Well, yes, but…" _But you're very easily distracted by 'Daddy, read to me.' 'Daddy, can we color?'_ Sometimes she thought Derek still felt he had to make up for the time Meredith had spent on her own with Zola, while the aftermath of the clinical trial fiasco played out.

"But nothing. I got it done, and you got your residency done. A pretty good day, don't you think?" He kissed her again, on the tip of the nose, and she giggled. The lightness she felt surprised her. She'd made it through her residency. She could make it through anything.

Right?

They loaded four suitcases, three carry-on bags and Zola's wheelchair into the back of the van. By the time she'd been strapped into her car seat, she was yawning, which was not actually a very good sign, because they still had to park the car, go through airport security and board the plane before she could sleep. In a desperate attempt to keep her awake, Meredith plugged the mp3 player they used for Zola's music into Derek's stereo and clicked it on.

By the time they got to the Sea-Tac airport, Zola had become a writhing ball of excitement, and Meredith wondered if they'd ever get her to calm down again. "Will Grandma be there when we get there?" she asked while Meredith slung one of the carry-on straps across the handles of the wheelchair, the other across her body and dumped the third on top of the suitcases Derek had plunked on a luggage cart.

"Yup."

"And she'll be so excited to see me?"

"Well, she did just see you last month. So she might not be as excited." Meredith winced a little at the memory of Mrs. Shepherd's last trip to Seattle. She hadn't taken too well to their hectic lifestyle—hospital, day care, Zola's therapies, all in a whirl of constant movement—and Meredith had gotten tired of being mentally compared to the three put together daughters (thank God for the train wreck that was Amelia, or she'd really be at the bottom of the pile).

Zola dismissed the reminder with one wave of her hand. "That doesn't make a matter. She'll be excited. I'm really super excited." She said it almost pragmatically, while she bounced in her seat. "Are you really super excited Mommy?"

"Yeah, Mer," Derek said, glancing over his shoulder as he lead the way to the baggage check-in. "Are you really super excited?"

Over her daughter's head, Meredith stuck her tongue out at Derek.

"She is." Zola tilted her head back to see Meredith's face, and Meredith found she didn't have to force a smile. "I absolutely know it. And Grandma is really super excited, and Daddy is really super excited. That means it's going to be the bestest trip ever!" Zola grinned, revealing two perfect rows of baby teeth. With all the distractions of hefting the suitcases onto a scale and reminding her daughter that they'd see them in a few hours—separation anxiety, still her greatest flaw—Meredith still had time to wonder how time had passed so quickly. Hadn't she just been there to help soothe the pain of those teeth coming in?

"It's official," Derek muttered in Meredith's ear while he tugged off Zola's shoes a minute later.

"TSA agents flinch when they see us coming."

"At least I can carry her through," she responded, dropping Zola's crutches onto the x-ray machine. "This amount of metal will not make things fun once she gets bigger. I don't guess we could convince your mom and sisters to move to Seattle to stop the constant plane trips?"

"Meredith," he said, lifting Zola up so she could settle in Meredith's arms. "Do you seriously want my family out here?"

"Derek," she replied, just as seriously. "Your family is here." Then she stepped through the metal detector to wait for him on the other side.

The constant questions and rehashing of all her plans for their trip wore Zola out right before boarding, and by the time Meredith had stowed all their baggage her eyes were flickering shut. True to her nature, she fought sleep, widening her bright eyes more every time they drifted shut.

"Hey, Zo?" Meredith said, settling in next to her, with Derek on the other side.

"Yes, Mommy?"

"I am really super excited."

Zola gave her a sleepy smile and nodded. A second later she fell asleep, like those words had been the confirmation she needed to allow herself to drift off. Derek went out like a light once the wheels were up, but too often a flight had meant a complete life change for Meredith, and she'd been conditioned to fret instead of sleep. This time, though, the combination of her final day as a Seattle Grace resident and the stress of getting them all on the plane on time caught up to her. She slept and didn't wake up again until the flight attendant came around with morning coffee.

Meredith declined for herself and for a still conked out Derek. A few of Zola's braids had fallen into her face as she slept. Meredith brushed them away, briefly remembering the long summer afternoon Bailey had spent teaching her to transform the dexterity born of being a surgeon into weaving her daughter's hair into a braid to keep it from tangling. Though she'd never taken much time to style her own hair, she'd been surprised at her own adeptness.

Bailey, as usual, had summed the experience up perfectly. "Grey, haven't you ever noticed how willing you are to learn whatever you need to do to help people? You've invented entirely new ways of helping people, and braiding is an art that goes back centuries. Of course you can get a handle on it."

Meredith hadn't exactly believed her then, back when Zola had still been new, and every day brought a huge unknown into her life. Now the unknowns hadn't stopped, but she'd learned to accept them. She'd mastered the art of understanding Zola's challenges, and finding the resources to help her overcome them. She'd scheduled therapies, ordered adaptive devices and could recite most of Zola's picture-books as easily as she could rattle off the procedure for treating head trauma.

Of course, she'd always known she could work by the book. She may never have had Lexie's photographic memory, but she had a good one. What she'd been worried about was instinct—the mothering one. But as the sunrise flooded the plane, and Zola's eyes lit up at the voice over the loudspeaker, she knew. She'd learned how to be a mother who loved her daughter. It hadn't been hard at all.

"_Ladies and gentlemen…"_

So maybe.

"_We will soon be landing at_…"

Just maybe.

"_Orlando International Airport_."

She could learn to love this too.

As she had this thought, Zola's excitement from the night before reappeared, triple-fold. Maybe she had Meredith's own tendency to disbelieve something would come until it did, or maybe it was the fact that she woke up every morning ready to inject the day with sunshine—dear God, when had Meredith started thinking this way?—but whatever the cause, she clapped her hands and squealed, _"_Disney World! Disney World! Disney World!"

And Meredith knew she'd grown, because instead of filling her with dread this display made her smile, even while the few businessmen around them in first class made _"I'm tolerating this, but really, must she?" _faces.

She, Meredith Grey, child of darkness, had somehow managed to get really super excited about going to Disney World.

No wonder Cristina despaired of her.


	2. Chapter Two: Magic Kingdom

**Chapter Two:**

"A bus and then the train thing?" Meredith protested as they stood in yet another line. "Do they even want you to get to the place?"

"It's a monorail, Mommy. It runs on one rail. Why isn't a train a tworail?"

Meredith crouched by Zola's wheelchair to dab another touch of sunscreen to her cheeks. Zola grabbed her wrist, "Why?" she insisted.

"First of all, it would be a di-rail, because mono is Greek for one and di is Greek for two. Second of all, I think it's officially a monorail train. So a regular train would be a duorail train, but that one came first so they didn't know there'd ever be a train that would run on one rail. Or three. The subway in New York runs on three."

"What would a three-rail be?"

"Tri-rail."

"Tri-rail," Zola repeated. "At Grandma's we take the tri-rail subway train! Right, Grandma?" She grinned up at Derek's mother who stood on her other side.

"If your mother says so."

"Yup, she does," Zola said, then clapped at the sight of the incoming train, wiggling in her seat as eagerly as nearby kids jumped up and down.

Meredith straightened and tucked the sunscreen bottle into the bag that hung on the back of the wheelchair. As she did, she met Mrs. Shepherd's eye. The older woman's lips were pursed to the side. "What?"

"Greek?"

Meredith shrugged. "Cristina speaks French to her. She likes learning things, and we're not sitting her down with flashcards and asking her scientifically name her body parts."

"Usually," Derek interjected. She glared at him. "What? She knows what epidermis is. And what the spine is. That was a conversation we had to have."

Before Meredith could say something else to defend herself the train cruised through the center of a hotel, which Zola found incredibly fascinating and she had to respond to the questions about why they weren't staying there.

A few minute later, the monorail stopped. "Magic Kingdom! Magic Kingdom!" Zola chanted, bobbing in her seat again. The announcer repeated a final message before the door opened. "Mama? What language was that?"

"Spanish."

"What did he say?"

"The same thing he said in English. Stand away from the doors and don't lose your kids."

Zola's eyes went wide. "You're not gonna lose me, are you?"

Meredith met Derek's eyes and even though it meant slowing traffic down by forcing people to navigate around the four of them, she crouched immediately in front of her daughter. "Zola Grey-Shepherd, I will never lose you. And even if you _try_ to get lost, I would find you. Okay?"

"Okay," Zola agreed, but as Meredith stood Zola wrapped her fingers around Meredith's. She kept hold long after her worries had dissipated into excitement at the bright colors of the Disney-character shaped topiaries.

"Oh, look, Zola, we could have taken a ferryboat here. Do you want to take it back tonight?" Derek asked as they approached the front gates.

Zola rolled her eyes. Derek thought she was too young for this gesture, but Meredith liked to point out that no one was too young to be exasperated by him. "Daddy. We ride ferryboats _all the time _at home. This is vacation. Can we go inside Cinderella's castle first of all?"

_There's irony for you,_ Meredith thought. _Our daughter, crazy for fairy tales, but disenchanted by ferryboats_.

"Good morning! Welcome to the Magic Kingdom." The employee who took their tickets smiled down at Zola. "Are you excited to be here, Princess?"

Meredith felt the hairs on the back of her neck bristle. She'd grown attune to the glances strangers gave her in the grocery store. The double-take while they absorbed both Zola's skin color and her wheelchair or crutches. Would the whole time here be spent fending off people who would condescend to her daughter—the one who'd just asked her about Greek prefixes?

Derek and Mrs. Shepherd didn't seem to have noticed anything amiss, and they continued on toward the arched entryway to the park.

"Good morning, Princess!"

Meredith glanced over her shoulder. A girl a little older than Zola had approached the man, and he greeted her in the same warm tone. The realization that he'd been speaking to Zola the way he'd talk to any other kid made Meredith stop in her tracks. Luckily everyone else had stopped, too.

"Mama! Mama, look!" Zola said, tugging on Meredith's hand. "Look, there's the ice cream, and the movie place, and it's so _just like_ in my book and my DVD. It's Disney World! We're here!"

Meredith crouched next to her held out her hands. Zola raised her arms to allow herself to be picked up. "What do you want to do first?" she asked, as she heard the sound of a camera clicking. She turned them both to see Mrs. Shepherd checking the image on the camera screen.

"It's what I'm here for," she said in response to Meredith's questioning gaze, and this time her smile held no judgment.

Zola quickly redirected Meredith's attention. "Castle, castle, castle!"

"Castle it is," Meredith said, starting them off through the throngs of people.

"We need to get an accessibility pass so we can skip the lines," Derek said. "Over there." He pointed toward the City Hall façade.

"_Castle_!"

"It'll only take a minute Prin—baby," he said, kissing Zola's cheek. Meredith realized he must hate strangers appropriating his nickname for her. "Then we'll do all the Cinderella things you can handle. And more than your mom can handle." He kissed Meredith's cheek too and headed in the building.

Meredith stood on the steps next to her mother-in-law who smiled at every grinning family passing by, and with Zola in her arms practically buzzing with excitement.

"After the castle I wanna do the carousel," Zola announced. "And then the teacups. They make you soooo dizzy. And there's a Lion King show, and space stuff and I have to meet Mickey, and Mama we have to go. There's so much fun stuff, because then there's Splash Mountain where you get _wet_ and on my DVD it says they sing the Zip doo dah song. Isn't that cool? It's all happy, but you're scared and getting wet. Isn't that funny?"

"Yes it is," Meredith said, latching onto the last sentence in the paragraph while the rest of it processed. As far as she could see, the funniest part of it was all she knew about these things that her daughter didn't. The fact that she probably wouldn't be tall enough for Splash Mountain. The racial issues in the movie Zippa Dee Doo Dah came from. Meredith's history with carousels. And the fact that with Zola's excitement practically oozing out of her pores, none of these things seemed important.

"You're not a Disney person," Mrs. Shepherd observed, crossing her arms and leaning against one of the building's perfectly white pillars.

"I… never thought about it, really. I mean… I never thought people could be so…happy. I decided this was all fake. And maybe some of it is, no one's happy all the time. But you can be, sometimes. A lot of the time. If people want a place where they try to hold onto that, well." She shrugged. "I help people live, I don't have to understand what they live for."

"Mama, look!" Zola practically threw herself over Meredith's shoulder. "Mickey shaped balloons_!_ They're _real_!"

Yeah, okay, they'd had one too many conversations about how things in books weren't always real after that whole monster thing. Noted.

"How do they do that? Do they tape balloons together? Do they blow Mickey-shaped breaths? Are their lungs different? Can I have one?"

"The balloons are molded specially. No. Not possible. Don't think so, and of course," Derek said, reappearing with a piece of paper he slid into Meredith's purse. "Castle?"

"Castle!" Zola raised her arms in triumph.

"Zo, if you hit me in the face it'll be a while before we get there."

"Sorry, Mommy. I just wanna see the castle."

"Yeah, we gathered that. Onward to the castle. You point the way." Zola thrust her arm out, directing them forward and Meredith had to laugh. "Good job."

"Don't you want her to ride?" Derek asked, taking charge of the chair once more.

Meredith glanced at Zola's wide eyes and shook her head. "Not right now. You know, Zo, I saw real castles once. On the other side of the world."

"Mama, this one's right here. Plus, _Cinderella lives there_. Do you think we'll get to meet her?"

"Maybe. I—whoa." They'd crossed over a wooden bridge, and before them stood the towering symbol she'd seen before every one of Zola's movies. "That's…bigger than I thought it'd be. Is it bigger than you thought it'd be, Zo?"

Her daughter shook her head, mouth open in a perfect circle, lost for words. For a second Meredith envied her ability to be wowed to silence by something constructed by people for just that purpose.

"It's like a fairy-tale, isn't it?" she said, speaking over the voice in her head, the one that had once promised herself she'd never allow her child to believe in things that weren't true—like fairy tales.

But maybe her daughter knew more than she did. "Mama, our house is like that, 'cept smaller. It's got a princess, and a king, and a queen and a happy ever after. Can we ride the carousel now?"

Before they moved on, Derek's mother insisted on pictures with the castle in view. Kind of stereotypical, considering the dozens of families doing the same thing, but when Meredith alluded to this she received a withering look. "You'll want these later."

Maybe she knew better about that, but all Meredith wanted was to keep the smile on Zola's face. "You ride with Daddy, okay?" she said once they finally got to the carousel.

"Don't you want your mom to go, Zola?" Mrs. Shepherd broke in.

Meredith stared in the eye of one of the painted horses. It seemed to stare back at her and see not her, but the five-year-old girl she'd once been. "No. Go on with Daddy. I'll be right here."

Zola barely seemed to notice her words. She let Derek loop the horse's belt around her waist and soon the ride had begun.

"You shouldn't miss out on any of this. She'll only be this age once," Mrs. Shepherd said.

Meredith didn't take her eyes off the ride rotating in front of her. "When I was five years old, my mother took me to ride a carousel. Every time it looped around, I waved to her and called her name. She never waved back. The fight she was having with her lover was more important than me. She didn't care if I had fun. She didn't want to see my smile. And I knew it. I could feel it. Zola will never feel it. She's always going to know I'm right here, watching for her."

She knew the speech was too much. It felt wrong to even say the word "lover" in this place where no family would ever acknowledge their dirty laundry, but she could not let her mother-in-law think she made _any_ choice without thinking about what it would mean for Zola.

"I understand. But next time, think about how much more you would have liked it if she had wanted to ride with you."

Meredith didn't answer. Instead she waved at Zola and Derek as they came around the circle. Zola rewarded her for this with a excited, "Hi, Mama!" and it sutured a wound in her heart that had long ago congealed.

"Mama, do I really look like Minnie Mouse enough?"

Meredith tossed the rubber gloves she wore to do Zola's catheterization into the trashcan. Her bladder control hadn't improved since her infancy, but the cathing didn't seem to faze her any more than her therapies or doctor's appointments did. Meredith had no idea what she'd done to deserve such an easy-going child. She could only be grateful Ellis Grey's constant prayers that she be given a daughter as difficult as she had been weren't answered.

"You do." She lifted Zola down from where she'd perched her on the changing table and balanced her to let her stand for a second. Meredith positioned her so she could hold onto the wheelchair while she straightened the two knots of Zola's hair on either side of her head.

"Ow! Mommy, that hurts!"

"Sorry, kiddo, but I told you they'd tangle." She straightened Zola's red Minnie Mouse dress and then popped her back into her wheelchair. "Wearing the puffballs for a few hours on Halloween was one thing, but all day they're going tangle. Remember? We talked about it this morning?"

"I want to look like Minnie!"

"And you do. You look _exactly_ like her. Mickey's gonna get confused. He might try to take you home instead."

"What?"

_Shit. _Meredith bit her lip and swung the stall door open with her hip. "I'm kidding. We're not going to let any anamorphic mouse take you home."

"He's not Morphic Mouse. He's _Mickey_ Mouse." The eye roll was practically embedded in her speech now. She needed to spend less time with adults. Or Cristina, anyway. "But you won't let him take me? You promise? I'm going home with you and Daddy?"

"Of course you are." She reached over the back of the wheelchair and put her hand on her daughter's shoulder. "Now let's see a man about a mouse."

They'd made it through the archway leading out of the bathroom before she realized tiny sniffling sounds were coming from the wheelchair seat and more than one mother leading kids into the restroom gave her a dirty look as she swung them to the side to investigate. A bench sat nearby indubitably for the men—who didn't have a line in _their_ bathroom—to wait. Meredith sat down on it and maneuvered Zola to face her. Tiny tears coursed down Zola's face and she held her hands over her faux-mouse ears.

"Take 'em out, Mommy. Take 'em out."

"Why? Zola, what is it?"

"Take 'em out. Take 'em out!" Zola started to cry harder and Meredith's fingers fumbled with the wheelchair seatbelt. As soon as it came unclasped she pulled Zola out and held her close.

"Why do you want your mouse ears out, Zola? Can you use words to tell me?"

Zola kept crying, her mouth shifting to form words with no sound. Finally she choked, "Don't want…go away…," before she started crying harder.

"Zola, Zola, Zola, no one's going away," Meredith said. She wrapped her arms more tightly around her daughter. Her throat tightened. She knew the fear of losing what you loved most in the world. She'd had it happen, and for a long time the fear had revolved around Zola. But she'd known why she feared it. The hardest thing about raising a child, she'd learned, was seeing them hurt and not knowing why or how to fix it. She was a surgeon, after all, she should know how to fix things.

"I'm not going away, and Daddy's not going away, and Grandma's not going away." She hoped the repetition would soothe Zola enough to let her speak.

"_I'm_ going away."

"No! No you're absolutely not. I'd hurt anyone trying to take you away. I was kidding about Mickey taking you. He'd be in super big time out trouble if he ever tried to take away a kid."

"No!" Zola said, the word drawn out in a sob. "Not Mickey. _Charlotte_."

Meredith blinked. They'd come so far from home—they were sitting in freaking Tomorrowland for the love of God—that she had a hard time placing the name of the girl in Zola's pre-K class. "What about Charlotte?" she asked, though she had a feeling she knew.

"She got tooken away from her mommy an' daddy. She's 'dopted like me, and she got tooken away."

Meredith sucked in a breath between her teeth. How had they not seen this coming? What had she and Derek been thinking, planning this trip and never seeing what was going on in front of them? She shifted so Zola sat straddling her lap, and both of her trembling hands. "Zola, Charlotte got adopted. Mr. and Mrs. Rosenburg weren't her mommy and daddy. They were her foster parents. That's like… a temporary family, not a forever family. They take care of a little boy or girl until their forever family is ready for them."

Zola watched her speak, her lip still trembling, no comprehension in her eyes.

Meredith tilted her head back, wishing they made a textbook she could recite about this. "You remember you lived in an orphanage before Mommy and Daddy met you?"

"In Mawahwi?"

"Malawi, that's right. Well… Mr. and Mrs. Rossi were like the orphanage. Except it's better for kids to be in a family instead of an orphanage, so in America we don't have orphanages, we have foster families. And sometimes they adopt the kids, but sometimes the kids just stay awhile until the forever family is ready for them."

Zola thought about this for a second. A single tear finished falling down her cheek, and Meredith raised a finger to wipe it away. A second later a fresh wave followed.

"Whoa, Zo, it's okay. Charlotte has a great adoptive family who love her now, just like Daddy and I love you. It's all okay."

Zola shook her head so hard the two puffballs of her hair bounced. "What if you're my foster family and someone else is my forever family and we don't even know it?"

Meredith immediately saw the procession of horrors that must be running through Zola's head. She feared the bogeyman that came in the night to take you away, whereas Meredith had wished for his arrival as a child.

"Zola Grey-Shepherd, I promise we are your forever family. Remember the pictures I showed you of us with the judge? And you were a baby? That means we have you forever. I have the paper saying it at home. Once we go there, I'll show you, okay? Would that help?" Zola nodded. "We chose you, okay? Out of all the little boys and girls, we chose you." _Or, you know. You chose us. Whatever_. "Forever. Got it?"

"Got it."

"Tell me."

"You chose me forever. Except one day I get a house of my own, so I can have a cat."

That statement, recalling a conversation they'd had over a month ago, reminded Meredith of what she had to watch out for with her pensive daughter. She'd keep something like Charlotte's situation inside, thinking about it, until it exploded.

_Yeah, like you know nothing about that, Meredith Grey._

"Well. We'll see about the cat. Better?"

"Uh huh."

"There are my girls!" They both looked up to see Derek bounding toward them, looking for all the world like an overgrown kid. He took one look at the tear-tracks on Zola's face and turned worried eyes on Meredith. "Everything okay?"

"Fine," she said, putting Zola on her hip to stand. "How was Space Mountain?"

"Aw, Mer, you should ride it with me. It's the best."

She laughed. "Not in this lifetime, Buster."

"Zola, have you been crying?" Mrs. Shepherd asked. "That's not a good way to get to meet Mickey."

Meredith stroked Zola's cheek. "Baby, it's okay. I understand why you cried. We had big things to talk about, didn't we?"

Zola met her eyes, and the solemn expression on her face made Meredith's heart clench. She tried so hard to make sure her little girl didn't have to think about big things, and the universe had other plans. But Zola didn't dwell on the hard stuff the way she had as a kid. She smiled at Meredith.

"Right, Mommy. It's okay, Grandma." She reached up, making sure her hair had stayed in place. "Come on everyone, let's go see a man about a mouse."

Meredith and Derek burst out laughing, and even Mrs. Shepherd smiled, though a second later she whispered to Meredith that maybe Zola sounded a _bit_ too bossy.

Five minutes later they arrived at the end of another winding line. Derek flashed Zola's accessibility pass, but there were still three families—"parties"—ahead of them, and the cast members dutifully alternated between letting people in the long line meet the Mouse and then bringing in one group from the shorter line.

Meredith watched Zola carefully while the first family, two little kids, the smaller one holding the hand of her brother who carried the white cane that universally symbolized blindness, approached Mickey. Zola showed no sign of her earlier tears, but as the cast member approached them to take Zola up to Mickey, she grabbed Meredith's hand.

She crouched, prepared to talk Zola into approaching Mickey—or give her an out if she needed—but Zola didn't look fearful. She looked determined. "Mama. I want to walk to Mickey."

"You sure, Zo? Didn't you see the man in the wheelchair go up there?"

"But he couldn't walk. I can. I want to."

"Okay," Meredith said without pause. "Let's do it." She turned to the cast member who stood with a patient smile on his face. She wondered how many times a day he had to escort sobbing kids out. At least hers wouldn't be one of them. "Give us one sec? They can go first," she pointed to the next group in the regular line. "She wants her crutches," she added to Derek. He immediately began unhooking them from the back of the wheelchair.

"Wouldn't it be easier—," Mrs. Shepherd started to say, but Meredith raised her eyes to her while she checked the Velcro fastenings on Zola's leg braces. "If she wants to walk, she'll walk. Hop up, Zo." She held out Zola's crutches and helped her loop them around her forearms then balance once she stood. "All set." She lifted Zola away from the wheelchair, and set her down at the front of the line.

The family she'd let cut them was large, and she could see the excitement bubbling in Zola, threatening to overwhelm her. She prepared to reach out and catch her if she toppled over in the attempt to dive bomb Mickey.

The cast member approached them and Meredith put a hand on Zola's shoulder. "Ready?" she began but before she got the word out she saw Mickey turn around and the cast member frown.

"I'm sorry, Princess," he said to Zola, pointedly not meeting Meredith's eyes. "Mickey needs a break. You can come back to see him in a little while."

"Oh that's too bad." Mrs. Shepherd frowned. "If we hadn't let the others go ahead of us—."

Derek cut her off with a sharp, "Mom."

Meredith barely heard her mother-in-law. "Excuse me?" she said to the acne-ridden college freshman in front of her. "Did you just tell my _four-year-old_ to come back later?"

The guy raised his eyes with the apologetic smile they probably drilled him on before letting him out amongst rabid parents. Meredith knew it. She'd given it to countless families sitting impatiently in the waiting room. But then she'd been helpless to speed up surgeries, hadn't known what to do to make it better.

With Zola's shoulder drooping under her hand she knew that would not be enough this time. "We're staying right here," she said. "We came here to meet Mickey, and that's what we're doing."

"Mer," Derek said. "We're going to be here all week. There will be another time."

She knew he hadn't heard her conversation with Zola earlier, and once she explained he'd get it, but there wasn't time. "That's not the point. The point is that because it took an extra minute for her to be ready to walk to Mickey, she's not allowed to. I didn't think _that_ was the Disney way."

Had she really played that card? She hated for people to treat Zola any differently because of the plastic on her legs, and knew the furrow in the cast member's brow wouldn't have been there if she didn't have this trump card to lie down. Without it they still would have been in that winding line, wouldn't have been within steps of Mickey before this happened and she could have convinced Zola they'd come back in a few hours.

But now with the salve for the afternoon's wounds within her grasp, she wasn't about to back down. It looked, however, like the plan would have to be loading Zola back into her chair and standing there for however long it took.

She got so focused on staring at the disgruntled cast member's unchanging features that it took her a second to realize Zola had started bouncing with excitement again. Before she could figure out why, a white-gloved finger came down hard on the guy's shoulder. He turned, and Meredith's jaw dropped. Mickey Mouse stood behind the man, and she had a feeling that if his smile hadn't been molded on, he'd be glaring. He sort-of-gently moved the guy aside and waved to Zola.

She stood there, mouth open in shock. Meredith quickly crouched by her. "Are you going to say hi, Zola?"

"Hi," she echoed, barely moving her lips.

Mickey beckoned her then turned to go back to mark he'd stood on earlier—the optimal picture place Meredith supposed. "Go on."

Zola took a tentative step forward, then glanced back at her. "Mama?"

"You can do this, Zo."

Zola set her lips in a firm line and continued forward. Soon she'd made her way over to Mickey who clapped his gloved hands for her. Then he cupped his hands over her mouse-ears and did a shuffling dance.

"I'm not really Minnie!" Zola announced.

Mickey put his hand on his hip, looked her up and down, scratched his head as if puzzling this out, then nodded tapping his temple. Zola watched this charade, and Meredith saw the tension in her shoulders relax.

"Zola, pictures," Mrs. Shepherd said. Mickey reacted, carefully guiding Zola in turning around. The grin on her face made going all mighty-mommy on the cast member totally worth it.

After Mickey had waved to Zola and sent her on her way back, Derek surprised at least Meredith and Mickey by saying, "Wait!"

The mouse cocked his head, probably wondering what he'd gotten himself into by cutting short his break. Derek held up one finger to him then smiled at Meredith. She really hated the spark in his eye. "Go on. Get your picture taken with Mickey."

"What?"

"You heard me. Go. You're holding him up."

"Derek—." None of the words in her mind were appropriate to say in front of Zola. She settled for glaring.

Meanwhile, Zola had stopped halfway to them and begun doing Mickey's shuffling dance of excitement. "Yes! Mommy gets her picture too!"

Knowing she'd never hear the end of it if she didn't, Meredith walked over to Mickey, scooping Zola up to use as a shield on her way.

"He's an idiot, but what can you do?" she said, making a mental note to remind Zola _never_ to tell Aunt Cristina she'd spoken to Mickey.

She wasn't sure if Mickey's understanding shrug made things better or worse.

Once she'd stood for a picture holding Zola, Derek insisted she get one on her own, and then Mrs. Shepherd sent him over. She stood there while Zola almost collapsed with glee at seeing both her parents with Mickey.

Once they'd finally appeased both Shepherds, Meredith let Derek go load Zola into her chair. She took a breath and before she lost her nerve put her hand on the mouse's arm. "I'm _not_ exactly a happiest-place-on-Earth type of person. I mean, contrived happiness and kind of creepy costumes? Not my thing." He tilted his head and she imagined the actor inside trying to figure out how to pull off 'insulted'. "But, so you know, you're kind of my hero today."

Mickey touched her shoulder with one hand, and with the other pointed over her shoulder. She followed his finger to Zola who had climbed back into her chair and was already entreating her grandmother to let her see the pictures.

"Yeah," Meredith said. "She's my hero, too." She really hoped Derek didn't glance over in time to see her eyes misting over while she spoke to freaking Mickey Mouse.

That night she stood at the front of the Magic Kingdom ferryboat, crowded in with bazillions—give or take—of people. Derek had his arms around her waist and his head on her shoulder. "I'm sorry you had to have that talk with her on your own."

She focused on the rippling water, ignoring the tiny increase in her pulse that came from being so close to it. "I'm kind of glad I was. I know what it's like to think my world could fall apart. I want to make sure she knows hers won't. Not if I'm there to stop it."

He nodded, his nose brushing against her neck.

She wrapped her hands around the railing in front of her. Spinning around to kiss him the fierce way she wanted to would not make them popular with the mommies around them. Or with Zola, frankly, and though she'd been rubbing her eyes for the past ten minutes, Meredith knew she'd be awake and chattering about the day for at least an hour more. Seattle time difference, and the late hours they usually kept wouldn't do them favors here.

"Also, I've been thinking about something. It's—" Before she could finish the thought, there was a loud pop from overhead. A shower of brightly colored light fell into the water. An "ohhh" sound echoed through the boat like the ripples the motor caused in the lagoon, but Meredith focused on the whimper from directly behind them.

"I got her," Derek murmured. He unwrapped his arms, and a second later reappeared holding Zola, who had her hands clamped firmly over her ears. Meredith took her and tried to ignore the knowing smile on his face. She didn't _need_ him to put his arms back around her… it just… felt nice.

"They're just lights, Zola. The bang comes from them being released into the sky. I know they startle you, but they won't hurt you."

Another firework burst into the sky, and she bit her lip to keep from flinching. Derek's arms tightened around her waist. Zola rested her head on Meredith's shoulder and from the light sucking noise she knew Zola had popped her thumb into her mouth. She knew yanking it out would be the parenting book's order, but after the day they'd had she couldn't bring herself to do it.

Orthodontists' bills belonged to a future as beautiful and frightening as the brightly colored lights bursting into the clear sky in front of them.


	3. Chapter Three: Hollywood Studios

"Do you think Tony and Frog will get along with Mickey?" Meredith asked Zola a few days later, parking her wheelchair next to a table at an ice cream shop in Disney's Hollywood Studios.

"Uh huh," Zola said, plopping her stuffed Mickey into the seat next to her. "They will."

Meredith smiled. She figured Tony the Tiger might have been replaced by Mickey, judging by how many times Zola had let the thing out of her sight since they bought it at the Animal Kingdom two days earlier—that was to say zero.

"Here we go, then. Ice cream for everyone." Mrs. Shepherd arrived at the table with three mouse-shaped ice cream bars.

Meredith opened Zola's, watching her carefully for a second after she'd handed it over for signs of I-can't-eat-Mickey rebellion. They'd had it out over the mouse ear pizza the night before. This must have been a reaction to being over tired rather than to Disney's insistence upon making kids worship a character and then eat its likeness, because she bit into the ice cream bar happily.

"Did Derek say where he was going?"

Meredith shook her head and a shard of the coating of her ice cream dropped onto the table. She quickly brushed it off. "No. Probably to buy me something stupid. Not that I expect anything! Just, it's the kind of thing he'd do. If it's mouse ears, though, he'll be a dead man."

"What's wrong with mouse ears, Mommy?" asked Zola, who'd allowed Meredith to put her hair back into braids only after she'd been promised she could be Minnie again on their last day.

"Nothing. I just don't need them."

"Mickey gave you bunny foo-foo ears in one of the pictures." She spread two fingers into a "v" to illustrate. "Wasn't that funny?"

"Wasn't it just?" Mrs. Shepherd said. Meredith's smile tightened. "I have to say, Meredith, I was impressed with you the other day. For someone who doesn't believe in Disney, you certainly acted like you did."

"You don't believe in Disney, Mama? But it's real!"

"I believe in it, Zo. Watch out, your ice cream is dripping." She held out a napkin for Zola to use to catch the drip and met her mother-in-law's penetrating gaze. "I told you, I never got the happiest-place-on-earth-thing. My dad wanted to take me here. He'd planned to for my sixth birthday. Mom hated the idea. I don't think he would have won, but we left before I got to find out.

"But I remember wanting to go. I heard other kids talk about it. I saw the TV commercials. I dreamt about that kind of thing like any kid, the perfect family vacation. I just could never have it because, no family. She has a family, and she should have everything else."

Mrs. Shepherd bit off the entire right ear of her chocolate with a decided crunch. No tiny shards fell to the table. Meredith didn't want to actively watch her chew while she waited for a response, so she focused on her own ice cream, practically choking herself with the next bite she took. She still had half of it in her mouth by the time her mother-in-law spoke and she tried to swallow quickly. Next to her, Zola offered ice cream to Mickey and she had to thrust a hand out to stop the exchange. She didn't think she'd be able to abscond with Mickey long enough to wash him without a full-on tantrum.

"Please don't take offense at this, but I've noticed over the past few years how often you talk about wanting her to have something because you didn't, or having a life opposite of yours."

Meredith swallowed the last bite of her ice cream. "Um. Yeah. I pretty much had the anti-happy childhood."

"So I've come to understand. As a mother, it's hard for me to understand how yours could have been so negligent and aloof. I find myself wishing you'd lived in New York. We had a habit of taking in kids who needed a stronger family—Mark for instance. Not unlike what you did with your home for wayward residents."

In spite of herself, Meredith smiled at the memory of her bustling house, the rooms a revolving door for whoever needed them.

Mrs. Shepherd folded her hands, resting her top lip on the edges of her fingers for a second. "I do wonder, though, is it the best way to go about making decisions for her? Your mother must have done a few things right, considering how well you turned out. She wanted you to be intelligent, as you want for Zola, right?"

Nearby a pair of pigeons fought over a popcorn kernel someone had tossed their way. Meredith nodded, focused on the battle.

"And I rather think explaining away your behavior in reference to her sells yourself short. The other day wasn't about her, after all. It was about your love for Zola and your will to fight for her, and it was purer than your actions at the carousel. Not founded on pain."

Meredith felt her throat tighten at the thought of herself as a lonely child on a carousel. She hadn't been able to truly enjoy seeing Zola ride, this was true.

"It's not my place to judge the way you're raising her, since she's obviously thriving. I only wanted to let you know that you're smiling more in those pictures with Mickey Mouse than I'd ever seen you smile before. It was very nice to see."

Meredith finally raised her eyes. "Thank you," she said. "It…means a lot to hear that."

"Good. I'm glad. Now tell me, is your sister going to make me a grandmother again soon?"

"I…" Meredith bit her tongue, thinking about the three pink lines she'd been sworn to secrecy about a few weeks earlier. "Oh, there's Derek!" She waved to her husband who headed over. The grin he wore plus the bag in his hand confirmed her suspicions. He'd bought something.

"For you," he announced holding out the bag. "It solves our debate."

She took it, warily, and peered inside first to make absolutely sure whatever was inside could be shown to Zola. She didn't think he could get an adults-only item at Disney World, but he'd done stranger things.

She half expected yet another piece of Doctor Mickey kitsch, but instead found a black t-shirt with both Yoda and Kermit the Frog on the front. The print said _Being Green, Easy It's Not. _

She burst out laughing.

"What, what is it, Mommy?" Zola asked. She showed her the t-shirt which elicited only an "oh". While she'd liked the MuppetVision show, Zola hadn't even been tall enough for Star Tours. Meredith had contended this proved the superiority of the Muppets in the contest between the two non-Disney-originated 70s throwbacks in the park. Derek claimed she wasn't even allowed to have an opinion, since both franchises had their heyday before her birth.

The argument had spawned an hour's worth of jibes about his age and her geeky childhood tendencies, but Meredith had reveled in it. For once they got to be normal people having a normal conversation. Even though the t-shirt was one of his cornier gestures, she knew it'd be a reminder to make sure she had time when she didn't have to be anyone other than his wife and Zola's mother—even for just a few hours.

She hoped it wouldn't be the only resolution she'd take away from this trip.

"And her braces are in the bedroom, but if you're staying in here you shouldn't need them. All her cathing supplies are in the bathroom, but we've taken care of it for the night so-."

Mrs. Shepherd held up a hand, and for once Meredith was grateful for one of her interruptions. "Meredith. Zola and I are going to be fine. You've left her before, haven't you?"

"Yes, of course." _But always with doctors who she sees once every few days, not once every few months_. Even then it wasn't a sure-bet. She'd pitched a fit during a sleepover at Callie's place two months earlier, and she and Sofia had been best friends since day one.

"Grandma can take care of me, Mommy," Zola said from her position on the hotel room sofa. Her voice was partially muffled by the head of the stuffed Mickey on her lap. A Disney balloon that refused to deflate was tied to his wrist. Meredith winced at the image of them traipsing through the airport the next day with the image of Mickey Mouse bobbing overhead. "And you'll be back."

"Of course I will," Meredith agreed, tuning into the hint of a question mark at the end of the statement. "Daddy and I could even come get you while you're asleep, if you want to wake up in our room."

She would _not_ cross her fingers behind her back. She would not.

"Don't be ridiculous, Meredith," Mrs. Shepherd said with the closest thing to a sly smile Meredith had ever seen on her face. "Zola will see you in the morning, all ready to go home. Isn't that right, Zola?"

"Back to Strummer?"

"Yup," Meredith said. "Uncle Mark is going to bring him up tomorrow, so he'll be waiting for you."

"Goody!" Zola said. "But I'll miss you Grandma."

Mrs. Shepherd smiled, and Meredith caught a glimpse of surprise in her eyes. Before she could question it there was a knock at the door. Meredith stood closest, so she leaned over to answer it, but Mrs. Shepherd ducked in front of her. "Derek."

"Hi, Mom." Derek leaned in to kiss his mother's cheek, and then Mrs. Shepherd stepped aside. Meredith's heart squeezed at the sight of him in a suit, just for her. It really had been a while since their last date. "Wow."

Meredith ran her hands self-consciously down the front of her wine-colored dress. She and Lexie had gone shopping for it the week before, once she'd realized how long it had been since she'd bought a dress. For once, she didn't feel totally awkward in it.

"Daddy, you look handsome," Zola declared. "Like Prince Charming and Mommy is Cinderella."

Meredith wrinkled her nose, but the designation of forgotten first daughter _was_ strangely apt.

"And what about you, Princess?" Derek walked over to the couch and scooped her up. She wrapped her purple pajama-clad legs around him and Meredith's cheeks tightened with the smile she'd worn every time he held her since the first night after they'd begun filling out adoption forms. "What does that make you?"

"One of the helper mice," Zola said, like she'd already thought it all out. "So I get to sing, and sew, and cool stuff. You guys just get to dance."

Derek raised his eyebrows at Meredith who shrugged back. Apparently she no longer had to worry about Zola getting the wrong idea from princess movies.

"Pictures!" Mrs. Shepherd sang out a second later. Meredith crossed her eyes at Zola to keep from rolling them. This made Zola laugh so hard it took a few minutes to get a photo that didn't show her in open-mouthed hysterics. This was totally okay with Meredith.

After another five minutes of good night kisses, followed by goodbye kisses, Meredith and Derek finally found themselves on the other side of Mrs. Shepherd's hotel room door. "Walk with me, Doctor Grey?" Derek asked.

She threaded her arm through his. "Of course, Doctor Shepherd."

"Downstairs," he said, pushing the button for the elevator. "There is a basket of carbs with your name on it."

A beat passed while they both considered the last time he'd said that. His eyes flickered, unsure if he should have made the reference. Meredith kissed him like she'd be doing it every day for the rest of her life.

Their reservation wasn't for another half hour. She'd been afraid of Zola's separation anxiety kicking in and had planned for if they had to wait for her to fall asleep. "The conversation we had must have stuck," Meredith said after they'd ordered at the bar.

Derek pushed her hair back behind her ear. "Or she's learned that we do come back. We always come back."

"Yeah," Meredith agreed. "We do."

The bartender delivered their drinks, a shot of tequila and a double-scotch single malt sitting next to each other. "Cheers," Meredith said, holding the shot up. Derek clinked her glass, and she downed it. The burn of the alcohol going down her throat made her cough. "God. I'm getting old."

"Never," Derek said. Any other time she might have wondered if she heard an undertone of fear in his voice, the ever-present worry about what might happen once she got older, but his eyes shone too brightly for that. "So," he added, sipping his scotch. "Is this a good place to hang out?"

Meredith glanced around at the décor, which though classier than anywhere they'd been before that week, still managed to have the three-circles of Mickey's head hidden in the weirdest places. "You know," she said, twirling the empty shot glass on the oak bar. "I think I like it."

Derek's smile deepened. "Good," he murmured. "Very good."

"This trip," she continued, threading her fingers with his. "It wasn't just about making Zola happy, was it?"

"Hey, date night rules. No Z-word."

"I didn't use it in context."

"Fine." He rested his elbow on the bar, tilting his head to study her. "No. Not exactly. I knew you'd never been and I thought you'd like it."

"You what?"

"Not the gaudy stuff, but the…atmosphere. The happy kids and the focus on family. You believe in family more than anyone I've ever met. I don't know if I ever would have gotten you here if Zola wasn't such a Disney enthusiast, but I'm glad I did."

"Yeah. Me too. Don't tell Cristina. Or Alex. Or Mark. Maybe Lexie."

"Write me a list."

"Oh, I will." She smiled, paused for a moment to get her thoughts together then said softly, "Hey Derek?"

"Yeah?"

"I wanted to ask you—."

"Shepherd, reservation for eight?" The hostess who they'd spoken to upon entering the restaurant came over. "We have your table ready. Please follow me."

The next few minutes were filled with approving the wine, ordering and discussing the interior of the restaurant. Only after a busboy had put the promised bucket of carbs between them did Derek ask, "What'd you want to ask me?"

Meredith's resolve to finally spit her question out had petered out with the end of the moment at the bar. She took a roll, breaking off a piece she intended to butter, but a second later she realized she'd ripped it to shreds. She took a second piece and repeated the performance. The third time, Derek took her hand. "Meredith? Is something wrong?"

There it was. The worry. The knowledge that the other glass slipper could have finally shattered, or whatever.

"No. Nothing's wrong. In fact, things are really good. Really, really good. So maybe we shouldn't rock the boat. I mean, I've got my fellowship, and your work on the Parkinson's trial is just getting started. Zola's doing so well, and before long she'll be at school and there will be a whole new pile of things to figure out. There's going to be a lot going on."

"Yes, there will. But we've always had a lot going on. Are you worried about handling it? Because—."

"No. That's not what I'm worried about. I'm not worried. Not exactly. I just—."

"Everything all right over here so far?"

Meredith sipped her wine while Derek spoke to the waiter. She should have waited until they were back in the hotel room to do this.

"You just what?" Derek asked once the man had disappeared.

Meredith took a deep breath, closed her eyes for a second then said, "I think it's time for us to think about more kids. I want more kids."

Derek's eyes widened to the size of half-dollars. His free hand wrapped around the stem of his wine glass, but he didn't bring it to his lips. "You're serious? Of course you're serious, I know that. I just…. Meredith that's…it's great, but…why now?"

"I…" She pressed her tongue to her lips. There were a ton of reasons why it made sense, ranging from timing in their lives to Zola's age, but they weren't what had brought her to the conclusion. "With Zola—z-word, I know—but with Zola I felt so scared at the beginning. A lot of what I did or didn't do was based on what my mother did and how she handled things. She only had one kid. It was enough for her. Really, she couldn't even handle one. But I didn't want to decide to have two or more kids because of her.

"The thing is, I've always wanted to help the people who need it most. I may have gotten into med school with my mother's name, but that's not how I survived it. I made it through because I wanted desperately to become a surgeon. To heal people the way my mom had, but to help them, too. And the people who I believe need the most help are the kids who don't have anyone to speak for them.

"I want to help those kids, Derek. Yeah. I want all the stereotypical stuff, too. Another baby now that Zola's growing up, a sibling to keep her from getting more spoiled than she is, someone who appreciates the Muppets."

Derek laughed and the façade of extreme seriousness that she'd managed to keep up for the past few minutes broke. She grinned at him. "And since we know we'd want to adopt this time, we won't have to worry about the shots and the blindness."

"True," Derek said. "But if we made a baby, I wouldn't say no."

She laughed. "Neither would I."

A second later, their food came and the conversation shifted to her upcoming fellowship. The dining room had taken on a new light for Meredith. A weight had been lifted from her shoulders, and a new feeling expanded in her chest. An excitement for the future that finishing her residency hadn't manage to create.

"Mer?" Derek asked, back on the elevator. He had his arms around her waist, and with her back pressed to him every one of her nerves seemed attune to their plans for the rest of the evening.

"Hmm?"

"Did you think about foster-parenting? It's basically what my mom did with Mark. I think at one point his mother even signed over a power of attorney. And you basically did it with the old house, just older children."

Meredith laughed and rested her head on his shoulder, watching the red numbers count up to the sixth floor. "I considered it, but… I don't think it'd be good for Zola. She needs consistency so badly." They arrived on their floor. She separated herself only as much as necessary to walk down the hall. "And you were right when you said I'm big on family. I want to give kids who need it a family, not a temporary place."

Derek opened their door, and while he stood there half shrouded by the dark room she added the truth. "And I don't think I could do it. The months before Zola's adoption got finalized were the worst of my life. I can't get attached to a kid and have them taken away from me, Derek. I've lost too much for that."

Tears bit at her eyes, and she tried to blink them away. This night should not have tears.

"Hey," Derek wrapped her in his arms and kissed the crown of her head as if she were Zola. "Don't cry. It's okay. I completely understand. I don't think I'd be strong enough to do it either. I like your plan. In fact, I love it."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," he agreed, pulling her inside and letting the door shut behind her. "But right now, there's another plan I like even more."

"Is there? What would that—?" Her breath caught as his fingers slid over the skin of her neck, millimeters above the zipper of her dress. His other hand snaked lower, landing first on her thigh and then over. She felt herself preparing for him even though his hand rested above two layers of fabric. "God, bedroom."

"Patience," Derek breathed into her ear after he'd led her through the small living room to the bedroom and her hands immediately went to his belt buckle. "We have the whole night. In fact, we have the rest of our lives."

"Not," she said with her mouth against his neck, "If we get another baby."

"Good point." He took his hands off her wrists.

A while later, they lay in tangled sheets, fingers sticky with the strawberries they'd found on the room's table along with a bottle of champagne and a note from Mrs. Shepherd telling them to enjoy their night. (It might have been creepy if Meredith hadn't loved strawberries so damn much)

"Meredith?" Derek whispered, draping his arm around her.

"Hmm?"

"You know this means we'll have to become one of the families at Magic Kingdom with their multi-colored kids chained together on leashes."

Her laughter echoed back at her in the dark room and she was still hiccupping back hysterics when she rolled on top of him again. "I'd put you on a leash," she said, running her fingers through his hair. "But I think you'd like it too much."

"You think right," he agreed, then his fingers slid between her legs, and she forgot about the future for a while.


	4. Chapter Four: The Happiest Place on Eart

On a chilly evening in April, almost five years to the day she'd brought Zola home, Meredith adjusted a framed photo on the mantelpiece. She couldn't stop hearing Cristina's voice in her head. _God, you're Disney people now. It's sickening._

Maybe it would have felt that way only a few years ago, but now the picture of the three of them with Mickey Mouse made her smile.

"We're going to have to go again." Derek's words followed the beat of his footfalls on the stairs. "The picture is inaccurate."

Meredith walked over to him and put her arms around his waist. "Let's go when they're old enough to appreciate it. A year or so. I don't think Zola would let us wait any longer. We're damn lucky she didn't insist on taking Mickey to kindergarten."

Derek's chuckle reverberated against her chest. "Meredith Grey, do you kiss your husband with that mouth?"

In response, she leaned up and pressed her lips to his. His arms tightened around her. A moan slipped out of her mouth into hers. It's had been, what, two weeks? Longer? Since the time in the on call room, and her pager had—.

A cry from upstairs cut her thoughts short. Another wail followed on its heels. Derek pulled away and rolled his eyes upward. "Why did we decide to do this?" he asked, taking her hand to lead her to the staircase. "We had one who slept."

"Mama, they're crying _again_!" Zola said from the door to her bedroom. She held her stuffed frog against one ear and had her finger in the other. "Are you guys doing something wrong?"

Meredith bit her tongue to keep from telling her daughter how much _she_ had cried her first weeks home, and opened the door to the nursery. Two heads popped up from the cribs leaning against opposite walls. Both toddlers were red-faced, and Katya had thrown her teddy bear so hard it'd landed in Xander's crib.

"If Mark's right and we end up with enough kids to start a baseball team, she's pitching," Derek said.

"Your daddy and Uncle Mark will teach you to throw things over my dead body," Meredith said in a tone meant to soothe the little boy flailing in her arms. "One day he'll tell you all about that window he broke _three days_ after we moved into the house. Our bed?"

Derek nodded.

"Do I remember that?" Zola asked. Despite her claims to be bothered by the babies' noise, she'd crawled after them into the room after them and now followed them down the hall to the master bedroom, pulling Frog and Mickey along by the flipper and glove respectively.

"Not unless you have a very good memory. You were about their age."

Meredith lay Xander down on the bed next to his twin. Neither of them could have been hungry or wet. They just need to be held, the same way Zola had on that first night. A flash of sheer gratefulness that she'd only had one baby that night sent Meredith sinking down onto the bed. _You wanted another challenge. Damn overachiever._

"So they won't remember now? Or before they came here like me? They're always gonna know we're a family?"

"That's right," Derek said, stroking Katya's cheek. Her cries had shifted to tiny whimpers, and though Xander still whimpered steadily, his eyes focused on Meredith's. The chance at peace gave Meredith hope that the next few weeks, though they'd be hard, might just be manageable. "But you always knew that, too. You seemed to know it before your mom and I did."

"I mostly knew it," Zola corrected. "Sometimes I didn't. But they will, because I'll tell them. I'll tell them lots that we're a forever family."

"Start now," Meredith said, shifting Xander so there was space on her lap. "Hop up here and start telling, Zo."

Zola pulled up on the side of the bed and began to hoist herself up. Meredith thought of the days when she hadn't known what limitations her daughter would have. Now she knew. Zola Grey-Shepherd figured out how to do what she wanted, and God help you if you stood in her way.

She was, in a word, extraordinary.

Once she'd settled Zola down between her and Xander, Meredith said, "All set?"

"Yup." Zola rested her head on Meredith's shoulder. Xander's hand wrapped around her finger, and Meredith felt her eyes well up a little. Her knowledge of siblings came from her days with roommates, but this was enough. She knew at some point she'd probably be listening to them squabble after Xander walked in on one of her dates (à la Lexie and April) or Zola stole his video games (George and Alex), but this seemed far in the future.

"So in _Lilo and Stitch_ they say 'ohana means family. Family means nobody gets left behind or forgotten' but the movie is about more than that, because Stitch is an alien, not a person, and he's blue, but he's still in the family. Also Lilo's sister is like her mom, which isn't the same as most people's. And their real parents are dead, like orphans, but they're not adopted so they don't have new real parents. But they're still a forever family, not a temporary one. They're an ohana."

Zola raised her eyes to Meredith who nodded. After Zola started talking again, Meredith glanced over to Derek who wore his _so your kid_ expression.

"We're an ohnana too, even though no one's blue and we have a real mom and dad. Ohanas are all different. Sometimes you get just a mom, or just a dad. And sometimes you get two moms and a dad and a Lexie. Then you're lucky. But not luckier than us. And sometimes your first family isn't the right one because something bad happens, so you go to a temporary place, but then you get a forever family who is a team and that's what we've got. And we're really glad you're here and I'm gonna share with you and stuff, except you have to get your own Mickey and Frog because those are mine. Right Mama?"

Meredith had to swallow hard before she said, "That's right, Zo. You did such a good job telling them that they've calmed down. You're being a great big sister. Ready to sleep now?"

"Can I stay here?"

"Sure," Derek said. Meredith knew he had the same thoughts she did about making sure Zola felt included. They'd had all the discussions about what having her meant for their next adoption—letting her keep her place as oldest, the question of whether they should adopt another baby from Malawi or not.

They'd chosen Russia after they saw a picture of the twins in Janet's office and heard how rarely siblings got to stay together, but not until talking it over with Zola. Still, the realities of having twin baby siblings would be harder for her to deal with than the abstract and they'd have work to do. But tonight, at least, the work could be immediately rewarding.

Meredith reached over to turn out the lamp, and shifted, draping her arm over the three kids. Derek's fingers found hers and squeezed.

"Good night, Katya and Xander," Zola murmured. "And Mama and Daddy." (Those nights when the she, Izzie and George were interns, all lying in the same bed).

"Night, Zo," Meredith whispered.

A second later the door to the room slid open further and the bed bounced with the weight of Strummer. He curled up on the foot of the bed. Zola rolled over and her Mickey Mouse doll whacked Meredith in the face. A far cry from the nights she'd spent miserable in an empty bed.

The attack by the mouse reminded her of something she'd have to tell old Mickey next time they visited: his place wasn't bad, but she had happiest place on earth pretty much covered.

**A/N HAPPY SEASON EIGHT PREMIERE DAY!**


End file.
